


Worth It

by Serenity_V



Series: An Acquired Taste [5]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Liz stabbing people with pens, Red really hates Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 17:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6528496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenity_V/pseuds/Serenity_V
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What is it with you in hotel rooms and pens in people’s necks?” It wasn’t always in hotel rooms, though Red probably knew that. Jacob had never felt so lucky to have someone so willing to stab him in the throat. Looking up at his fiancée as she did so, all he could think was that she was worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! I've wanted to write this literally since before I wrote "What He Expected." Hope you enjoy it as much as I did :)

In the two years since they’d entered into their arrangement, Raymond Reddington and Jacob Phelps had never met. The older man had not paid much attention to the operative and had never shown any interest in his methods, but he hadn’t failed to notice his engagement. He had not been pleased, to say the least, and had made his displeasure _quite_ clear. Suffice it to say, Jacob had seen a change in employment.

He wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea of spying on Lizzie – and, he’d long since stopped wondering when she’d gained such a hold over him – but if this “Berlin’s” ultimate plans included hurting her, Jacob needed to know about it; he knew anyone else would follow orders without question. At least, this way, he could protect her.

“Stop it,” a voice sounded in his ear, and the object of his thoughts hit him playfully in the arm.

“Ow! What?”

“This is our _engagement party,_ and you’re thinking about _work.”_

Well…She was technically right about that, though thank heaven she didn’t know what Jacob thinking about “work” really meant. It was one of those moments in which Liz knew him so completely and yet not at all.

“You’re right, sorry,” he grimaced, “That’s it, I promise. No more.” And, he meant it. There was no imminent danger to deal with, and worrying about future complications wouldn’t solve anything. He was getting _married_ – how had he managed _that?_ Grinning, he pulled Liz in for a kiss.

“What was that for?” she smiled up at him when they parted.

“I just wanted to kiss my future _wife.”_

“Congratulations, Liz,” Gary teased, “You’re marrying a total sap.”

“Hey,” Jacob retorted, “Just ‘cause you’re single…”

Their engagement party wasn’t a grand affair, just a few friends sharing some drinks at their favorite bar. It was…perfect.

Jacob downed the shot someone had set in front of him to keep from laughing out loud. He’d just had to think it, hadn’t he? Alright, when was the disaster coming? There was no such thing as perfection in his life, and if there was, reality was sure to set in and wreck it immediately. Lizzie was the only exception, and he prayed she’d remain so. He didn’t want to return to an existence without her – _existence,_ he thought, because it hadn’t been life.

Lizzie must have noticed the maudlin turn of his thoughts because she asked, “Babe? Are you okay?”

He turned his head to face her, and the world started spinning. _What?_

“I’m fine,” he tried to say, “Just a little dizzy,” but all he managed to force out was, “Can’t…breathe.”

What was happening? What had he- _the shot._ He hadn’t seen where it had come from.

_Idiot,_ he thought as he lost control of his body and fell to the floor, gasping in vain for breath. He, of all people, should have known better. He should have been especially on his guard now. How could he have been so careless?

It was Lizzie, he thought. Something about the woman he’d originally been hired to protect made him feel so safe. He’d put too much stock in the sentiment and grown complacent. If he survived, this might turn out to be just the sort of wakeup call he needed. She was capable, but she couldn’t guard against a threat she didn’t know existed. He _had_ to survive, and he had to be more careful. As long as Lizzie was in the dark, he’d have to protect them both.

Speak of the devil…Well, she definitely wasn’t a devil, but she wasn’t an angel either; he wouldn’t have fallen for her if she was, and his thoughts were wandering, that meant he was running out of time, right?

Speaking of Lizzie, she was kneeling by his side. She’d turned him onto his back to aid his breathing – though it hadn’t made much difference – and gotten Gary to call 911. Now, she was asking for-

_An Epi-pen? Not sure how much good it’ll do, but nice try, Liz. Sorry, Babe._

It didn’t matter. No one had one, anyway.

As Jacob felt himself slipping away, he focused on Lizzie. He wanted her to be the last thing he saw before- well, before whatever happened.

She was frantic, desperate. _Terrified._ He saw it in her eyes. But, she kept all that at bay. She was completely in control, focused on the problem at hand. No sitting back and worrying for his Lizzie, no, she was doing everything in her power to _fix it._ She was-

digging through her purse for some reason. What was she looking for? Jacob had a flashback to the pill bottle she’d pulled out of her purse on that day almost two years ago when he’d first given her a second glance. With some trepidation, he thought, _Do I want to know?_

Well, whatever it was, she seemed to have found it, as she said, “I’m sorry, Tom,” turning toward him with- was that a _pen?_ “But, this will help you breathe.”

Looking up at his fiancée as she impaled his throat with a pen, the only coherent thought Jacob could form was, _If I die right now, you are so worth it._ He didn’t think he’d ever loved her more than in that moment.

It was his last thought before he blacked out.

* * *

Jacob woke up in a hospital. Like, a proper one. _Well,_ he thought, _there’s a first time for everything._

_Including being poisoned by your disgruntled former employer and surviving only because your fiancée – whom you were never supposed to get close to in the first place, who was supposed to be just another job to you – stabbed you in the throat with a pen._

_Well, life’s been stranger._

_Right?_

_On second thought…_

“Tom?” At the sound of her voice, Jacob turned his head toward the woman seated at his bedside.

_Liz._

“Don’t try to talk,” she preempted. “Your throat’s pretty messed up. From when I…you know. There’s no permanent damage or anything,” she hastened to reassure, “but it’ll take a little while to heal.”

Jacob managed a small smile in an effort to let her know everything would be alright, but she seemed really upset, though she maintained a calm enough façade. Until a crack appeared.

“Babe…The doctors said…They said it looks like someone tried to _poison_ you.”

Right. Of course, they’d noticed. Jacob widened his eyes, feigning surprise and mouthing, _What?_

It was the appropriate response, the expected one. But, not the right one. The dam burst.

“There’s no reason anyone would want to hurt you like that, except for…Tom, someone _poisoned_ you, and it’s probably my fault, and then I _stabbed_ you-” She broke off, struggling to fight back the tears that threatened to spill.

At times like this, Jacob Phelps wanted to murder Tom Keen. Jacob wanted nothing more than to tell Liz what had really happened, that it wasn’t her fault and that he could _handle_ it. That this was his life, and she didn’t have to worry.

So, he did what he always did at times like this and conveyed all that in the only way he could without breaking cover.

_You haven’t scared me off yet,_ he mouthed silently, eyes boring into hers. It was, perhaps, the most honest he’d ever been.


End file.
